


A Speck of Dust on the Wind

by thetransgirlwhoneverwas



Series: Fictober 2020 [6]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetransgirlwhoneverwas/pseuds/thetransgirlwhoneverwas
Summary: Not all departures are made equal, and this fact can make one cynical if one is not careful to appreciate it. Just because everybody leaves, doesn't mean they should be pushed away.
Series: Fictober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952200
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	A Speck of Dust on the Wind

“Do you think this is alright?” the Doctor asked as he examined his brown coat in the mirror. The wardrobe was full of various jackets and coats in dark and drab colours that had been strewn around the room, slowly but surely blotting out one of the only colourful places left in the TARDIS, leaving it matching the gothic atmosphere. This room, however, was more cold than any other room in the ship that stood on a planet that the Doctor had promised himself he would never set foot on again.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Charley said as she stood behind him, showing immense restraint and not rolling her eyes.

“I should dress appropriately, should I not?” the Doctor asked in a valiant attempt at a lighthearted tone. It didn’t land how he hoped it would. Charley said nothing in response. The Doctor sighed. “Okay,” he relented to the ever deepening silence.

He stepped out of the wardrobe and walked across the TARDIS in silence.

“Maybe I should-”

“Doctor,” Charley replied, but the tone wasn’t teasing or even disappointed. It was flat.

“You’re right,” he said, throwing on a black coat over his shirt, buttoning it up, and breaking the latest in a line of broken promises so long he had forgotten when he stopped counting them.

He walked in silence across a field of ash. The wind howled around him, but it wasn’t the howl of an angry wind, looking to blind those who dared trespass and turn them away. It was an empty sound, borne only of the dust it picked up and dropped again as if it had lost the will to lift and fly, settling down on the ground to become just another speck of the trillions. A sound of apologies and tears and quiet goodbyes that picked up and died just as quickly. The Doctor paid the wind no heed. He walked the endless dust until he came across a mound.

“I wasn’t my best with you,” he said to the mound. “I’m sorry.”

The wind picked up his apology and flew it away where it died with the rest of the dust.

“You were a friend,” he continued. “A better friend than I treated you as. A better friend than I was. I’m sorry.”

No sooner had his apology left his downturned mouth, the wind picked up again and dragged the words away from the mound to settle with the ash behind him.

The Doctor took a deep breath.

“You were a good man, and the universe didn’t treat you as well as it should. I could say a million sorries, and none of them would mean a thing. So I should thank you instead.”

The wind calmed itself, and the dust around the Doctor’s feet settled.

“You were a good friend. You helped us out of many scrapes, and you were there for Charley when I couldn’t be. You laughed with us, you lived with us. We were friends, yes, but we were also a family. And we wouldn’t, couldn’t have been without you. I didn’t tell you enough before, and now I can’t. So for what it’s worth, thank you.”

The wind was gone, and silence had fallen.

He turned to Charley who stood behind him.

“Do you think that was enough?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, does it?” she responded.

The Doctor turned back to the grave.

“Thank you for being my family, C’rizz. I hope you are at peace. You deserve it.”

He stood and stared at the grave in silence and stillness. He didn’t bother to count how long he did. Finally he turned back to Charley.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is what you feel. Do you feel like that’s enough?” she asked him.

The Doctor considered the question before he gave his answer: “yes. Yes, I’ve said what I...what I needed to say.”

Charley smiled, and the Doctor watched as her smile, and her eyes, and her image faded from view, carried away by a gently whistling wind.

The Doctor watched Charley Pollard disappear, and then he returned to his home.

“Tell me,” he said to the quietly humming walls. “Was she you? Or was she just me?”

Silence.

“Come on, old girl,” he coaxed. “I needed it, in the end. No need to be coy. I’m not upset. I’m thankful.”

Silence.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway,” he said finally. “What’s important is that I said what I needed to. Thank you for bringing me here. I’m sorry for what I said when you did.”

He patted the wall closest to him, which glowed a deep, warm green in appreciation.

“You’re right, of course,” the Doctor said, unbuttoning and removing his coat. He wandered slowly over to the console. The time rotor moved up slowly, the hum gently ascending in pitch.

“What now?” the Doctor chuckled as he threw on his favourite green velvet coat. “Now, my friend, we move forward.”


End file.
